All Our Yesterdays
by Keung Liu
Summary: Once every thousand years a new god is created, and this time He comes in the shape of a small French boy. He and Arthur somehow become best friends, until Francis goes wrong. Suddenly the fate of the universe becomes shifted on Arthur - who's the only one who can stop Francis, who just wants the love of his life back.


**Title: **All Our Yesterdays

**Number of chapters: **20? Maybe

**Word count: **2300 for this part

**Warnings: **Please click on my profile for a full list of warnings if you need them.

**Other notes:** Every chapter will be a year in Arthur's life, starting from when he's four years old. I wrote this on impulse. I hope you like it ^.^

* * *

When Arthur is four years old, he witnesses the birth of a new God.

The star from which the God emerges had come tumbling down to earth in a cascade of dazzling light and fire, and when it lands it leaves a scorch mark deep in the Earth that's fifty feet across from the center. And when the dust clears and the trees stop shaking, a thin figure stands up from the center of the wreckage and collapses onto its back immediately afterward.

Arthur's parents are out that night, dancing their hearts away in a ballroom somewhere on the other side of London, probably, and the nanny had fallen asleep. They are all sure in the belief that their charge is safely tucked into his bed but they are wrong because after the star had landed, Arthur's soul had already been captured by the divine being outside the house, and he's gone by the time the parents come home.

They search for him and they find him sleeping in the shambles of their backyard. Their backyard, mind, is the great wilderness and beyond, because they live outside of the city. They cry and shake Arthur awake and when the young child awakens, the only thing he can say from that moment on is _Francis_.

* * *

When Francis falls to Earth, he already knows that he'd been _chosen_. All seraphs guard over the realms of the world, but there can only be one God, and the last God had perished twenty-three hours ago from mortal weight. Yes, one can die from being too heavily weighed down by the troubles of men, even a god. The last God was one thousand and four hundred years old when he died. Francis is four years old.

Even though he knows he'd been chosen, he doesn't know much else. He trembles for a long time in the wreckage that he'd created during the fall, and when he finally summons the courage to stand, he finds that his wings fail him and he falls over. And when he tries again, and falls again, this time there is a little hand extending out to him that is there to help him back up.

Francis takes the hand and when his skin touches the mortal's both of them light up like fireflies in the night. Francis knows he's made a grave mistake because Gods aren't supposed to touch mortals, and mortals aren't supposed to survive God's touch.

But the little boy isn't dead. "Arthur," he whispers, his sleepy eyes blinking rapidly.

"Francis," Francis responds.

"Are you an angel?" Arthur asks. Their hands haven't unclasped; they're still holding each other tightly. Francis kneels even though he's barely taller than the other and he smiles.

"I'm your God," Francis says.

* * *

Arthur becomes selectively mute from then on. The only person he can talk to and around is Francis and Francis isn't even a person. Francis visits Arthur often, probably because Francis himself has nowhere else to go. They play toy soldiers three days a week until they move to America and Arthur is sent off to pre-school, and Francis decides to follow Arthur there, too.

"Arthur doesn't talk," his mother explains to the teacher on the first day of school. "Well, he _does — _he _did_. He still can, that is. The only word he says is 'Francis'. Three weeks ago we believe he suffered a traumatic experience and now he just doesn't feel like it anymore. The doctor says that there'll come a day when he _does_ feel like it, with some help. So until then, please go easy on him! Goodbye, sweetie; mummy loves you. Make friends."

Arthur waves his hand shyly, his other hand clasped tightly around his stuffed bunny.

Then another woman comes around the corner just as Mrs. Kirkland walks away. They bump into each other, and she exclaims, "I'm terribly sorry! Are you alright, dear?" while helping the woman regain her balance. Mrs. Kirkland startles when the woman looks at her straight in the eye. The woman is pupilless and her eyes are entirely grey. _She must be blind_, reasons Mrs. Kirkland.

"I am alright," says the woman in a monotonous, blank voice. Behind her leg appears a small blond boy, who smiles with a full row of beautiful white teeth. He looks nothing like his mother.

"Hello, sweetheart," Mrs. Kirkland coos, and the blond boy laughs. The laugh is so clear and gorgeous that it gives Mrs. Kirkland pause, and by the time she's regained herself the woman and her son have already disappeared to see the teacher.

* * *

Francis tries to use his divine powers for good, not evil, but it's hard when he needs to protect Arthur and doesn't know any other way of going about doing this but pushing someone off the edge of a cliff. For example, on their second day of school, they meet Allie, a rambunctious American girl who wears pigtails until she cuts them off with her scissors. On accident, of course. Allie also drinks Arthur's juice and colours on Arthur's papers and Arthur can't say anything to stop her, so Francis does.

"You should leave him alone before I hurt you," Francis warns, with full intent on actually causing some bodily harm.

"You should leave him alone before I hurt you," Allie mimics as she grabs her own juice and skips away.

"She's _mean_," Francis says, all resolve breaking now that Allie's turned her back. "I want to go home." Francis' home is a small one-bedroom house made of leaves that'd been made by the forest animals he'd called up, sort of like how it was done in Disney movies. It's located outside of the city and takes about three seconds for Francis to get to if he teleports.

Arthur pats Francis' arm in a condescending way. "She's a girl."

Francis thinks about that hard for a moment before he shakes his head. "It's not because she's a girl. She's just mean. Besides, how would you know? The only girls you know are your mum and nanny and now Allie."

Arthur is years behind Francis in terms of mental maturity, so he simply tilts his head to the side because he doesn't understand what his God's trying to say. Francis just smiles again and whispers conspiratorially, "Watch this, Arthur. Allie!" he calls.

Allie turns, halfway to the carpet. "Give us your juice," Francis commands.

"Okay," Allie says, shrugging, and coming back over so that she can hand Francis her juice. Halfway back to the carpet, she breaks out of the spell, seeming to notice that the juice is gone from her hand.

* * *

Arthur goes to church every Sunday because his parents are faithful people but Arthur doesn't really understand what they're talking about half the time, especially during Sunday school. He doesn't get the Bible stories and doesn't understand why God is mean sometimes and why they have to pray before they eat. He's never prayed to Francis before he's eaten and Francis isn't old enough to have a son named Jesus Christ and it doesn't seem like Francis' powers extend beyond those of making little girls give him their juice.

"I know God, and he's never done that," Arthur says out loud one time, for the first time in over three months. Everyone, including the teacher, looks at him in surprise.

"Arthur — you, you talked!" his teacher cries, and she sweeps Arthur up in her arms and spins him around and when Arthur's feet touch ground he's dizzy and has forgotten what he was going to say. They call his parents and everyone rejoices and decides that it's truly a miracle from God.

Arthur soaks up the attention happily but when he sits in the church basement while everyone's pelting him with questions all he can think about is how maybe Francis lied to him and Francis really isn't God, even though Francis is a bit magical. Arthur doesn't know who to doubt but he knows that he's just a kid so maybe he should doubt no one and believe all.

"Who is Francis, Arthur?" his dad finally asks, and everyone quiets, because _Francis_ was the only word Arthur would ever say when he was 'mute'. And everyone thinks that _Francis_ holds some connection to the experience Arthur suffered in the past, that _Francis_ holds the key to all.

Francis doesn't go with Arthur to church — Arthur doesn't know why — so without his faithful presence, Arthur doesn't even think about what he's saying when he blurts, "Francis is God."

"Are you talking about Pope Francis, dear?" Mrs. Kirkland asks, her thick brows coming together in confusion. "He's not God, dear, he's — well, he's the Pope."

Arthur shakes his head and smiles a secretive smile. "_God_," he repeats.

"You've met God?" asks Mr. Kirkland, because if God can heal Arthur's mutism, than perhaps God was the one who'd given Arthur the mutism in the first place, and perhaps Arthur really did meet Him.

"Yes," Arthur says.

"What was he like?"

"Warm," Arthur says. "And fun. And magical."

They all ask him more questions but Arthur won't answer any more because now all he can think about is wanting to see his friend, who's warm and fun and magical and makes Arthur feel like the only kid in the entire world.

* * *

It turns out Francis is inexplicably attached to his human charge. When Elizabiel appears to him one stormy night, just as Francis is riding the clouds and conducting the high winds to see how far his powers can stretch, Elizabiel explains that normally Gods don't become friends with humans because humans have feelings and emotions that can cloud their judgment and nobody wants that.

"I can't leave Arthur," Francis protests.

"I wasn't suggesting that you leave him, Francis," Elizabiel explains gently. "Just that you be careful. Arthur seems perfect in your eyes but no human is perfect and you can't place Arthur's safety in higher priority than anyone else's. That isn't fair."

Francis kicks a stone and the storm stops and he sits down miserably and puts his head in his small hands. He feels old, infinitely older than he is, and wonders how much more of this oldness has yet to come. His predecessor had been at least four hundred years old when he was chosen to be God, so he probably understands things better than Francis does, and doesn't feel so heavily burdened. Some things weren't fair.

"I know," Francis says finally. "But Arthur's special all the same. Can you try to understand, Elizabiel, even a little?"

"Angels weren't born to understand hogwash."

Francis smiles faintly. "One day when I'm powerful enough I'll release all the angels from their orders and have them be free so they can think for themselves and can spread goodness all around and won't have to listen to one little person they might not even like."

Elizabiel returns the smile. "Not all angels are as devoted to spreading goodness as you think, Francis. You might want to reconsider that."

Francis doesn't think he will, so he pushes the topic aside. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Anything."

"Look after Arthur when I'm not. I'll be busier when I'm older, and I won't have so much time for him, and he might be lonely without me. Just look after him? Make sure he doesn't get hurt."

"I'll try." Elizabiel is about to return to heaven, when she turns around and adds, "Francis? The fate of the universe is dependent on you. Make sure you handle the responsibility well."

"As if I didn't already know that," the four-year-old God mutters.

* * *

Arthur and Francis sleep together that night. Francis had snuck in after Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland went to bed and he'd crawled under Arthur's covers and they'd clasped their tiny hands together and Francis had told Arthur about his day, where he cured a blind man from his blindness and helped free a squirrel from a tangle of wire.

"Francis," whispers Arthur in the dark, and Francis says yes? And Arthur asks, "If you're really God, then what're you doing here? Don't you have important things to and important places to be and shouldn't be talking to me because I'm just a kid?"

Francis thinks about that for a moment. "Kids are just as important as people who aren't kids," he decides after a long while. "Maybe even more important because kids have long lives ahead of them and can do more things and don't think about useless stuff like taxes and the weather."

"But even in Bible school, God was leading people out of deserts and bad places. You're not doing any of that. You're just lying here with me."

"That was the God before me," says Francis proudly. "A few Gods before me, actually. All of us are sent to rule here for a little while and then we're sent away. The longer we're here on Earth the more mortal we become until we become so mortal we die and go to heaven. But since I'm just a kid too, I don't have all my powers yet, and I'm not _one hundred percent_ God, so I don't have that many responsibilities. Once I get all the memories from the God before me, I can start ordering the angels and seraphs up in heaven to do things, and we can start judging the souls of the dead and all that neat stuff."

"Francis," whispers Arthur, "Please don't ever go away."

"I'll try, Arthur," promises Francis. "For you."


End file.
